What Once Was Lost...

I went to the BYU Lost and Found for the fourth time and finally found my computer cord. This is cause for rejoicing. But it also inspires me to write another story about lost and found.

WARNING: This story is about fake boobs. Stupidramblings need read no further!

Years ago, Captain Fabuloso was dating a girl who we'll call Red. She was great, and although I never thought she was a good match for Captain Fabuloso, I did think that she would make a great friend for me. I especially thought so after she got me a job at IS where I still work, five and a half years later. Red had some physical problems for which she sometimes had to take very serious medicine. While she was on this very serious medication, it was as if she was drunk. So one day, Captain Fabuloso took advantage of the situation to extract her most embarrassing moment. As her roommate cried, "No, Red! Don't do it!" Red shared her most embarrassing moment with Captain Fabuloso.

You see, it was all the more embarrassing because Captain Fabuloso had been present for the moment, but unaware of what was going on.

Red was a funny girl. During her whole lifetime (okay, maybe not the whole lifetime), whenever she made a bet with someone, she'd bet lingerie. In this way, she ammassed quite a collection of lingerie that she was saving for Some Day. She kept it in a box she called her Hope Chest and would add, "I only hope I have a chest when it comes time to wear it!"

She didn't have much up top. And so to supplement the little she had, she (or her mother?) purchased two little realistic inserts. They were little flesh-colored jellyish things complete with little nipples. And one evening, when she was going on a date with Captain Fabuloso and friends, she decided to insert her inserts.

The group went to Extreme Sports, a place where gladiator or sumo-like sports were played. I never went. All I know is that the activities there were, well, extreme. At one point, Red looked down and saw that one of her inserts was missing. She informed her roommates and they all started the search.

The men didn't understand why the women were spending so much time in the ball pit. They'd surface and laugh, and claim to be playing in the balls, and then they'd all return to the bottom of the pit, searching frantically for a little jelly insert.

They went to the cashier and asked if they had a lost and found, explaining that they'd lost something. The cashier asked them to describe the item. Red refused, demanding that the cashier simply allow her to look at the lost and found items and she would determine whether or not her lost item was there. Since she was insistent and scary, the cashier handed over the box and after looking she announced that the item was not in the box. She and her roommates continued looking for the item as inconspicuously as possible.

Eventually, a 16-year-old employee approached Red and her roommates, and said very lowly, "I think I've found what you're looking for. Is it a---" and here, he gave them a knowing look.

Red followed him to the counter. The 16-year-old brought her in behind the counter and there, on one of the lower shelves, was her insert, sitting nipple-side up.

"This is it!" Red exclaimed. Taking it, she pointed to her roommate across the room and said, "It's actually hers, but she didn't want to claim it. You know. She's embarrassed."

Ahhh, yes. It was a classic story. And she has so many other stories, too. Good times, good times. No, ASB, sadly we no longer do Treat Day. And to be honest, work isn't what it used to be. Somehow, as they've gotten away from hiring actual editors, the coworkers just aren't the same. I still love my coworkers, but without having a love of language in common, we have nothing.

MPB: You're one to talk. I know for a fact that you buzzed your hair to get women. You know that women can't resist rubbing a buzzed head. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Treat Day lasted as long as I did. Actually I think Ambrosia was the one who kept it alive; I guess she's gone now, too? Nonetheless, the promises pertaining unto Treat Day were never fulfilled, so I say, "Good Riddance."